


Halfsies

by hikawasrinko (ranpoandpoe)



Series: Transdori Week 2021 [1]
Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Adults, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Married Couple, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Shirokane Rinko, Polyamory, They/Them Pronouns for Shirokane Rinko, Threesome - F/F/F, Trans Female Character, Trans Mitake Ran, Transdori Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranpoandpoe/pseuds/hikawasrinko
Summary: The dreams of high school sweethearts Arisa and Ran were always filled with cottagecore scenarios, peaceful lives and a flower shop for their own. It was a delight that the both of them managed to get that lifestyle so soon. About the peaceful aspect of their teenage dreams… well, one could say the pair also got that as a part of the deal, with a tiny exception that had a name, surname, gorgeous dark hair and timid eyes. The name was Shirokane Rinko, a regular at the flower shop who’d appear every Tuesday and Thursday with the same order.
Relationships: Ichigaya Arisa/Mitake Ran, Ichigaya Arisa/Mitake Ran/Shirokane Rinko, Ichigaya Arisa/Shirokane Rinko
Series: Transdori Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200932
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Halfsies

**Author's Note:**

> transdori week 2021 - day 1
> 
> this fanfic was supposed to be for day 2 but i didn't start writing the first one, so this is what you'll get <3 hope you like it!

The dreams of high school sweethearts Arisa and Ran were always filled with cottagecore scenarios, peaceful lives and a flower shop for their own. It was a delight that the both of them managed to get that lifestyle so soon, a bit under their thirties. Not that it was so hard, as Ran’s parents owned a flower shop, so it was only a matter of them retiring and her stepping up. 

They did thank for it every day regardless, though. About the peaceful aspect of their teenage dreams… well, one could say the pair also got that as a part of the deal, with a tiny exception that had a name, surname, gorgeous dark hair and timid eyes. The name was Shirokane Rinko, a regular at the flower shop who’d appear every Tuesday and Thursday with the same order: four blue roses, though sometimes she’d just ask for a whole bouquet.

For a long time, they’d remained nameless for the owners, being referred to as the Pretty Blue stranger, then Blue Lesbian, as Ran spotted a pin with the sunset lesbian flag on their clothes a certain Thursday. And during the Tuesday that followed, Arisa, who felt bold for maybe, possibly, having a chance, decided to ask for their name. Although she then panicked and said it was for her to put a note on the bouquet, Arisa got the name and a giggle.

“Ran…” Arisa whispered. The couple was still in bed, but the blonde wife had just woken up with the sunlight that’d gotten through the thin curtains. Ran, still asleep, just responded with a groan. “Babe?”

This time, Arisa’s whisper was closer to Ran’s face, near her earlobe, and that was enough to make her wake up with a bunch of chills through her neck and shoulder. “Mm? Arisa…?” 

“We have to open the shop in half an hour.” Arisa’s tone was soft as she caressed her wife’s hair. “Breakfast’s ready, but I thought you’d want time to have a shower, put on your binder without a hurry and a few minutes of voice practice.” Another groan, though this time, it was noticeable that Ran was slightly more conscious than the last time. “Also… it’s Thursday.”

Now was the time for a sigh. As Ran got up, she mumbled, “That’s low, even for you.”

“You know nothing is too low for me…” Arisa hesitantly replied, which was immediately followed by blush on both of their cheeks. “And next time you want me to quote She-Ra, you can just ask.” 

Both Arisa and Ran knew they were too shy to ask each other something of the sort, but neither commented anything on the fact, content enough with holding hands on their way to the kitchen. “Butter, toast and tea. A simple breakfast,” Ran observed. One would think she’d hated it, but after more than ten years knowing her best friend, then girlfriend, then wife… well, Arisa knew better. “It’s… very good… thank you…” 

Knowing her so well, Arisa knew exactly where to look—the ears and point of the nose—when they’d become redder and redder of cheerfulness. “You’re so gay,” Arisa teased as she sat on the table and took a sip of the jasmine tea. 

“You literally woke up early to make breakfast for a girl.”

Ran immediately noticed how casually and nonchalantly she’d called herself a girl and warmth fluttered inside her chest. Of course, she didn’t comment on it, being too shy and enjoying the bickering way too much, but that didn’t mean it’d gone by unnoticed. “You  _ slept  _ with a girl last night.”

“Says the girl who married one.”

“I clearly remember saying ‘no homo’ after our coven’s priestess said that the bride could kiss the bride, though…”

That was as far as they’d gotten, because Ran wasn’t able to take it and let out a chuckle, which was the door for a laughter crisis at the breakfast table. The breakfast had to be quick, as they didn’t really have time to spare—upon checking the time on her phone, Ran jumped from the chair screaming ‘fuck’, to which Arisa answered with “language, darling!”

Having a shower in the morning wasn’t that much of a difficult task now that Ran wasn’t as dysphoric as she was in her teen and young adult years: she slept only with an oversized shirt from a random band—the night before, the chosen was Green Day—and her job didn’t really require her to get dirty. The flower shop had air conditioning, so it wasn’t usual to have sweating involved at any point of the day, and her unclean hands from the soil were washed by the end of her shift, so morning baths were easy. 

While undressing, Ran observed herself in the mirror. It was an exercise she’d been practicing for years: item by item, she’d see how comfortable she was with her appearance and the parts she’d have to work on. It worked so far. Near the end of the process, she noticed that the red hair dye on her hair needed to be reapplied, and she took a mental note to buy some products later that day. 

From the bathroom, she could hear the sound of Arisa washing the dishes; her wife would always sing during the task, when she thought no one was there to hear. The quality of the sound wasn’t the best for Ran, since the dishes clashing and the noise of the water made it hard to focus on the beauty of Arisa’s voice, but it was a perfect little moment nonetheless.

Already dressed with something comfortable, jeans and a different clean shirt—David Bowie’s this time—she went ahead to find her wife in front of the stairs that would lead to the store. It was incredibly convenient to live in the second floor of your working space. “We should go now,” Arisa said, checking the time on her phone without sharing it with Ran, who had to do so for herself. 6:55. Ran would always hate the act of going to work as she certainly wasn’t a morning person. “Saaya must be almost here to get some starflowers for her girlfriends’ daily choco cornets. She’s an early riser, really made for the life of the friendly neighbourhood baker.”

Ran chuckled bitterly, still in a bad mood. “I would  _ never  _ own a bakery.”

Already down the stairs, Arisa let out a chuckle. “We’ll see Shirokane Rinko today and I know you’re pretty even frowning, but with this mood, they’ll think you hate them.”

Though Ran scowled, the comment went through her: as she prepared everything to open the store, organising the flowers while Arisa checked if everything was right on the cashier, she practiced opening a few smiles to seem a bit more approachable. She’d never needed to do that with Arisa; life had pulled them toward each other like magnets, the two shy kids in middle school who made an alliance of pairing up during every project, which developed into a close friendship, which bloomed into romance and marriage. ‘Bloom’ was, in fact, the perfect word to describe them, considering their mutual love for plants, flowers and bonsai and the family of florists Ran had come from.

The doors for the flower shop were finally open and Arisa was proven right: the first person to enter was the owner of the Yamabuki Bakery. “Sorry to be here this early…” She giggled while blushing, clearly embarrassed. “I left most of the usual orders ready and asked Jun and Sana to take care of the shop for a bit while I came here…”

“It’s fine, Saaya…” Arisa reassured her; she was a great friend, though she didn’t know how to properly react when anyone told her so. “You want the usual, right? Three starflowers for Kasumi, Rimi and Tae?”

Heart eyes passed by her facial expression for a second at the mention of her girlfriends, but she tried to hide it as if her relationship with those three wasn’t already common knowledge around the neighbourhood. It didn’t take long for Arisa to prepare the order; since Saaya was a regular who’d pass by the store every day with the same request, Arisa would leave her order separated, so they were always in easy access. “There you are,” She said with a shy smile as she handed the three flowers to the client.

“Thank you for your service,” Ran muttered simultaneously as the other client left the store. She was clearly still in a bad mood, which made sense: it was still morning, which was due to a few more hours. “I need serotonin.” She claimed as soon as the shop was empty again, without accumulated customers. 

“We’ll have to wait for our lunch break for cuddles, babe.” Ran then groaned, but didn’t argue; instead, she just wandered around the store, looking for something interesting to spend the time with. “You’re smiling.” Arisa noted, taking her eyes off the money for a second. “Should I worry?”

Instead of answering, Ran just approached her wife with a purple rose in hands—a flower which soon ended up stuck behind Arisa’s ear. “Princess.” 

“Love at first sight,” Arisa interpreted; her expression was of judgement, but it was accompanied by a slight blush that didn’t lie. “And purple for royalty. If we’re listing clichés, then we should dance with no music playing.”

Shrugging, Ran replied, “Maybe we should.”

“Ran…” A sigh. “We’re working.”

“And…?” It wasn’t news for Arisa that her wife didn’t care very deeply for rules—if there was something she’d learned by spending all her days with that woman since high school. She also learned that resisting Ran’s rebellious spark was harder than it should be. “ If anyone arrives, we stop. Plus, who would give up on buying flowers because the married lesbian owners are dancing with each other?”

For a second, Arisa decided to consider the question. “J.K. Rowling.”

“Do we care about her?” Ran furrowed her eyebrows; all of that was joking and teasing, but the mention of the TERF still activated the florist’s fight or flight instincts, rightfully. “If she comes here, we’ll make her a bouquet that symbolises ‘fuck you’ in floriography.”

“Okay,” Arisa chuckled, admitting defeat. She offers her hand to her pleading wife—as pleading as Ran would ever be, at least. “If you wanna dance, let’s dance.” Her rough hand from hours spent counting money touched Ran’s wet ones from watering the plants, refreshing in more ways than one. 

The pair swifted around the shop with the soft colored atmosphere from the flowers surrounding them, a dreamy scenario that could’ve easily been from a fairy tale: two girls holding hands, so close their chests were pressed and they could feel each other’s hearts beating. Arisa was short and petite, fitting inside her lover’s arms like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

Though there was no music playing, just as clichéd as they’d imagined before, it wasn’t necessary. Their own minds were rich enough to make up the soft notes of a piano as they went, full of achingly beautiful yearning— “You’re hearing the piano too?” Arisa asked upon noticing that the rhythm Ran hummed was oddly similar to the one inside her head.

“Mm?”

“What you’re humming,” She clarified. “Is it a piano that you’re listening to?”

“Wait, you’re hearing it too?”

Still in sync because of the dance, no words were needed for the both of them to walk towards the door, following the lead of the piano sounds. They were guided out of the shop, too intrigued to even lock it up, but as soon as they left, it was clear they wouldn’t go far: a few meters away from the store, there were five girls together, apparently in a band, and one of them… well, both Arisa and Ran recognised the thin fingers that pressed the piano keys very well, as they grabbed flowers from them twice a week. 

There was no doubt that the pianist was Shirokane Rinko: not only because the pair of wives had already gotten all of their traits memorised, but because blue roses seemed to be the band’s symbol, everywhere from the instruments to the band members’ headpieces. Upon the sight of Arisa and Ran, Rinko immediately stopped playing and their act was followed by the others, as synchronised as the married couple standing in front of them. 

“I’m, I’m sorry,” Rinko apologised before they even got close to the pair. “I was going to pass by to get flowers, but it seemed to be such a good place to play for a bit… I’m so, so sorry for… for disturbing—”

“Don’t worry!” Arisa was quick to say, the panic going all over her body, contributing with blushing, shaking, sweating and chills all the way up through her arm. Anxiety most certainly didn’t help with her love life—she still had no idea how or why Ran had fell in love with her, but at least, she’d accepted it after so many years. “You wouldn’t… didn’t disturb… we were doing nothing that… um… required special attention.”

“But the piano!” Ran exclaimed, the fact that her sentence made no sense whatsoever hitting her seconds later. “You sounded… fine.”

Rinko’s face seemed to light up with the compliment, probably being insecure enough to treasure the bare minimum or skilled at reading others’ facial expressions—in special, Ran’s grumpy one, as many called ‘resting bitch face’. Either way, Arisa felt like kissing them. “You think so?!”

“Y-yeah…” 

“Introduce ourselves, Rinko~!” One of the few extroverted people from the group exclaimed, looking excited. Ran recognised her as a girl who had worked in a part-time job with Moca when they were in college. She didn’t say anything, though, as she probably wouldn’t remember—and even if she did, there may be a misgendering situation going on and Ran wasn’t feeling like going through the discomfort. 

“Oh! Oh, yeah, um…” Rinko stopped for a second, as if preparing a script inside their head. It felt plausible that the assumption was true. “We… we’re Roselia… the one right here is Lisa, she’s… she’s our bassist. Yukina… the… uh… the one with the microphone, she’s in the vocals. Obviously… um. The one next to her is Sayo, who’s with the guitar, then there’s Ako as the… the drummer.”

“Nice to meet you,” Both owners greeted at the same time, receiving the same response from the girls in the background. “Also…” Ran added, hesitating for a moment as if wondering whether it was worth it to ask. She decided it was. “You introduced everyone, but not yourself.”

“A-ah… okay… um… I’m Shirokane Rinko, the p-pianist. I go by they/them pronouns. She/her too, I guess. Sometimes.”

“They and them it will be, then,” Ran was the one who answered, but Arisa nodded in agreement. “Are you gonna come in? To… buy some roses?”

Immediately, they looked back as if asking permission to the other members of the band, only to see them cheering them on. “O-okay… I guess…”

The affirmative answer is met with a smile from both Arisa and Ran, who signed for Rinko to follow them in. Not even needing to hear the order, the pair of owners had already grabbed the bouquet composed of five blue roses Ran prepared earlier that morning. She handed the flowers to Rinko, who started counting the money inside their pocket.

Before they finished the count, Ran interrupted, “I have a proposition to you. No, we… we have a proposition to you.” She corrected, victim of her wife’s disapproving glare. “You… you may not need to pay for this bouquet…”

“Oh!” Rinko exclaimed with a gasp. “Oh, I… you don’t need to! I’ve got it—”

“No, it’s not—”

“Is it because I’m taking too long? I’m so sorry, I’ll try to do it more efficiently, my apologies, I didn’t mean to—”

Interruption after interruption from the other two, Arisa raised her voice—maybe it could solve the awkward situation or at least make it go faster. “We want your phone number!” She’d gotten quite breathless after saying those five words out loud. “That’s it. What… what Ran meant. To say, I mean… we think you’re… very b-beautiful and we’d like to… um… know you better. If possible. Of course. Uh… so. Yeah.” 

A chuckle left Arisa’s mouth as Ran was paralyzed and Rinko stared from one to another in bewilderment. Finally, after a few seconds—maybe a minute—of pure shock, Rinko grabbed Arisa’s hand and a pen from the cashier. Then, it was Ran’s turn to have her hand written on by them. After that, they put the money back in the pockets of their pants before walking out of the door. “Thank you… for the flowers… fufu.”

It was their turn to be in bewilderment: they only looked down five minutes after Rinko had left, to see the numbers scribbled on their palms: half of a phone number on Arisa’’s and the other half, on Ran’s.


End file.
